


Strawberries

by E_Scribble



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Outgoing Derek, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seduction, Stiles doesnt know hes gay, dirty talkin! stiles, forward Derek, frat party, fruit idk im sorry, he finds out pretty fast, heavy breathing, hello hotstuff, help me i need help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4540815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Scribble/pseuds/E_Scribble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles smiled. “Okay. I stand up and ask all these people here if they like strawberries. If someone says no, I’ll kiss the shit out of them. Regardless of their gender. But if everyone says yes, you have to ask Allison out.”</p><p>“Fine, deal.” Scott finally said, thrusting out his hand. Stiles firmly shook it, completely positive with the outcome.</p><p>“Okay, I have a question for you guys!” Stiles shouted, and everyone cheered. “Does anyone here not like strawberries?” There was silence, and Stiles smiled, sure of his victory. </p><p>Then someone raised their hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberries

**Author's Note:**

> !!!! I can't stop I'm not sorry I will never be sorry
> 
> I hope you enjoy the smut that my dumbass brain thinks up
> 
> :)

The lights surrounding them pulsed and wavered, fractured rainbows dashing across the walls of Isaac’s frat house. Stiles and Scott hovered near the edge of the living room, swaying to the music as it beat through the wooden floorboards under their feet. Scott had drunken about two beers, and he was cautiously nursing his third, his eyes scanning the room for what Stiles presumed was Allison.

Stiles, however, believed that parties were _not_ for being sober, and was well into his sixth beer. The already swaying light curved the floor delicately, and he felt like perhaps he were trying to stand still inside a moving cement mixer.

Bodies pushed around them, swaying and weaving and grinding. Scott looked thoroughly uncomfortable, standing rigid as a short tan girl crashed into him with a loud laugh.

“But dude,” Stiles began, and Scott turned back to him, a quizzical eyebrow raised. “ _Everyone_ likes strawberries,”

Scott rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No fucking way Stiles. Strawberries are nice and all, but they’re not like, ambrosia.”

“ _Yes_!” Stiles squeaked, flailing his arms and spilling a bit of his beer. “I think there’s a myth somewhere about Zeus creating strawberries because he felt bad for mortals with their plain-ass bread and wine and shit,” Stiles took another massive swallow of his alcohol. “Not,” he said, “that wine is bad,”

 He grinned when Scott rolled his eyes again. “I took Mythology last semester, you dickwad, and you’re _wrong_ ,”

Stiles squinted at Scott. “Alright, wanna make a bet?”

Scott glanced over. He could never resist bets. “Hell yeah,”

Stiles smiled. “Okay. I stand up and ask all these people here if they like strawberries. If someone says no, I’ll kiss the shit out of them. Regardless of their gender. But if everyone says _yes_ , you have to ask Allison out.”

Scott swished his drink contemplatively around, weighing his chances.

“Fine, deal.” Scott finally said, thrusting out his hand. Stiles firmly shook it, completely positive with the outcome. Scotty boy needed a girlfriend, anyways.

“You better start preparing your love speech, Scotty,” Stiles smirked, then crawled hastily up onto the table-tennis match to his right, so he was standing on top of it so everyone could see him. A huge roar when out and he pumped his fist, downing his beer and tossing it to the side before he called out, “Hey! Turn down the music for a second!”

It took a couple of tries, but finally someone turned the music off, and everyone was staring at him.

“Okay, I have a question for you guys!” Stiles shouted, and everyone cheered. “Does anyone here _not_ like strawberries?” There was silence, and Stiles smiled, sure of his victory.

Then someone raised their hand.

Scott laughed to his left, and a gasp went up from the crowd, and Stiles mentally cursed himself. The music was off, so Stiles decided to put on the show a little longer.

“Alright, get up here!” He called, and a chorus of laughing and hooting followed. He watched as the crowd parted for the figure, until he was standing directly below him.

Stiles looked down and felt his eyes widen.

First thing; he was a _guy_ , which, Stiles so didn’t do.

Second thing; he was a _hot_ guy.

He was ripped, muscles pushing at the confines of his bright white wife beater. His jawline was so sharp Stiles was surprised he didn’t cut himself when he reached up to run a hand across his mouth. His lashes were long and cast shadows against his high cheekbones, eyes light, the color hard to define in the flashing rainbow of the lights.

Stiles, moved by the adrenaline, booze, and the audience, jumped down from the table, landing not an inch away from the guy.

There was a gasp from the audience, then Stiles grabbed the back of the guy’s neck and brought his head forward, other palm sliding across the stubble of his cheek and into his hair, jerking his head forward.

Their lips met with a shock.

His lips were so _soft_ , so soft and pliant and _harsh_ , that was there too. They weren’t forgiving, they were _drawing_ they made Stiles clutch at his hair harder, made his fingers curl into the nape of the guy’s neck. He was only conscious of the guy he was kissing, the feel of his lips, the pulse of his heart, the hands on his back pulling him closer. He wasn’t aware of the catcalls surrounding them, Scott laughing manically in the corner, the music flaring to life again.

Despite his reservations against _kissing guys_ Stiles _loved_ it.

The electricity that jumped between them made his breath, his toes curl. He opened his mouth slightly and the guy forced his tongue in, and Stiles gasped. Their tongues collided and Stiles was suddenly shoved up against the fireplace.  

“What the fuck,” the guy asked, though Stiles couldn’t really hear the question in his voice, only the hoarse rasp.

Stiles, affronted, crossed his arms. “It’s not like you weren’t _enjoying_ it. I heard you moan.”

The guy rolled his eyes. Stiles tried not to notice how nice his muscles looked in his damp tank.

“Yeah, it’s not that,” The guy growled again, and Stiles wanted to kick his shins a little bit. “It’s just _why_ you kissed me,”

“Oh! This whole dare thing, like with strawberries. And by the _way_ , so uncool that you don’t like strawberries. Like, what are you? Martian? Can you explain to me exactly _how_ they taste to you? Have you even _had_ a strawber-“

The guy put his hand on his mouth, and Stiles went cross-eyed looking at it.

“I think I liked you better when we were kissing,” he said lightly, a gleam in his eyes. Stiles stomach churned, and he couldn’t tell if it was arousal or surprise.

“About _that_ ,” Stiles said around the guy’s finger. “I’m not gay.”

The guy blinked, then frowned. “Bi?

Stiles shook his head. “I’m just a ballsy straight guy.” He grinned at him, and the guy smirked, and _damn it_ if Stiles heart didn’t race a little faster.

He leaned in suddenly, and Stiles gasped, his breath hot on his neck. He could feel the hard strength of his body as it pressed him harder into the fireplace, and Stiles gasped.

“Derek,” he whispered roughly into Stiles’ ear.

Confusion spread through Stiles. “What?” he asked, and if his words were a littler breathier than usual, it was so obviously the booze.

The guy, Derek, apparently, smirked. “So you know what name to scream as you’re coming later,”

Stiles felt his knees weaken and he was pretty sure all the blood in his body went straight to his dick, because there was no other explanation for how light-headed he suddenly was.

“Holy shit,” was all he could mutter, and Derek smirked. His eyes raked over Stiles body, and he could only imagine what Derek was seeing; a scrawny kid who looked like he was barely out of high school, glasses falling down his nose, worn flannel sticking to his glistening forearms.

Totally unfuckable.

“You’re so fucking _innocent_ ,” Derek murmured, running his hand down Stiles’ side, causing him to jerk and gasp.

“Stiles,” he breathed, “my name is Stiles.”

Derek grinned again and grasped the front of his flannel, tugging him closer, their breath mingling together in the smell of beer and mint.

They were suddenly kissing again, and Stiles’ wasn’t really sure when they started tumbling up the stairs, but he was _very_ okay with it, his lips all over Derek’s mouth and skin, his fingers tugging at his tank top, yearning to rip it off. On the way up, he saw Allison kissing Lydia and he only spared a small moment for Scott before turning back to Derek.

They burst into one bedroom only to find Scott and Isaac making out and rolling around and doing all the things that Stiles generally _never_ wanted to see Scott do.

He made a type of puking sound and tugged Derek out of the room and into another, thankfully unoccupied one, and he grinned as he turned back to Derek.

But Derek was on him again, hungry and predator like and all teeth and growls and _sex_ , god, Derek was _sex_.

Stiles moaned and curled his fingers in the fabric of Derek’s shirt before tugging it up and over his head. Derek huffed when Stiles threw it carelessly to the side, smacking Stiles lightly on the shoulder, breaking away from the kiss.

“Don’t toss that all over, I got that from my grandma,” he grumped, and Stiles bit back a smile, instead nipping at his lip, running his hands along the smooth contours of his body, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles, the sharp intake of breath.

“Get on the bed,” Derek commanded, and suddenly his pants were gone, heaped on the floor next to his shirt.

“Oh, so it’s okay to throw your pants but not your shirt?” Stiles quipped, leaning back against the mattress, kicking off his shoes.

“My grandma gave me that shirt,” Derek replied, sliding low and lithe over Stiles’ quivering body, “not those pants.”

Derek leaned in and suckled at Stiles’ pulse, and he was sure that Derek felt the spike when he bit down on his jugular, hard enough to bruise. Stiles jerked and gasped, hands flying to Derek’s back where they curled in, pulling downwards.

Derek cursed and moaned, arching into the scratches, then leaned down and captured Stiles’ swollen lips with his own again; hard and bruising and _hot_.

Stiles felt hands pull his flannel delicately off, handling the clothing with care, and Stiles smiled a little. “You’re such a softie when it comes to clothes,” he said aloud, all the while lifting his hips to allow Derek to slide his jeans off his legs with ease.

“That’s because I’m a generally concerned citizen, considerate of others belongings,” Derek replied sarcastically, throwing Stiles clothes down next to his.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fold those, not very _considerat_ -“ Stiles broke off when Derek reached down to palm him through his boxers, making his erection pulse and fill, bulging against the soft fabric of his boxers.

“Shit,” Stiles gasped, eyes going wide as Derek smiled and leaned down to delicately kiss his stomach.

“You’re much bigger than I would have thought,” Derek said conversationally, like they were discussing the weather. “Longer, too.”

Stiles flushed and was about to reply when Derek pulled his boxers down swiftly and fisted Stiles’ cock, holding it steady and pulsing within his squared palm.

“Oh, _god_ ,” Stiles gasped, arching desperately into his touch. The room swirled around him in an array of colors and blurs, but Derek’s voice was steady and clear.

“You like that, huh?” he asked, his voice low and shivery.

“Yeah,” Stiles responded, low in his throat, anxious and surprised and confused all at once.

He was pretty sure when he had walked into this party, he hadn’t been anticipating having sex with the hottest man alive.

He had never, actually, planned to have sex with a man at _all_ , so the whole turn of events was quite shocking for Stiles.

Shocking, yes, but pleasantly so.

 _Arousingly_ so.

Derek’s fist was tight and warm, surrounding Stiles’ length steadily, jerking his fist at random intervals then waiting, watching Stiles slowly fall apart under his torturous palm.

After about five minutes of jerking in surprise and pleasure, then begging breathlessly, Stiles managed to push himself up. He opened his mouth, ready to scold Derek for _being a major ass_ , when Derek smirked and began aggressively stroking his erection, in fast, tight movements.

Stiles mouth fell open with a moan, his eyes heavy-lidded. He felt himself fall back down onto the sheets with another groan and twist of desire, the pleasure curling tightly in his stomach, curling and coiling, pulling taut.

He gasped, arching, fingers fisting in the duvet. “D-Derek,” he whispered, and Derek groaned softly in the back of his throat, his eyes snapping up to meet Stiles’. “I’m gonna,” Stiles breathed, gasping again, hips bucking up into Derek’s fist.

Derek pumped him faster, never breaking eye contact, his breathing heavy and uneven, pupils blown wide, cheeks slightly flushed. Stiles’ breath came in short, hurried gasps, his fingers clenching tightly as the coil inside him snapped. Blinding pleasure shot his limbs through, burning his muscle to liquid. He arched up with a cry that resembled Derek’s name and then melted back into the mattress, gasping, eyes half-closed, blinking wearily.

Derek was grinning at him, predatory and mischievous, and Stiles wanted to wrap his mouth around Derek’s cock and _suck_ until the smug grin melted from his face, until his plush mouth was open wide, gasping, _begging_.

Stiles scrambled upward, reaching forward to tug Derek’s shoulders down, bringing them face to face. Stiles kissed the edge of Derek’s mouth, then slowly moved his mouth lower, using his lips to trail a path from Derek’s jawline to his collarbone, down to his nipples, across his sternum.

He finally came to a halt at Derek’s line of hair, a trail following down to his well-kept manhood.

Stiles glanced up, pleased when he saw Derek’s face was already flushed, and pushed him down on the bed, so _he_ was above Derek this time.

“I’m going to wrap my mouth around your dick and suck until you can’t see straight,” Stiles promised, trailing his fingertips lightly across Derek’s inner thighs. He gave a low moan, eyes shutting tightly.

“You’re going to get lost in the heat,” Stiles continued, bending lower, his hot breath ghosting across Derek’s balls. “You’re going to go insane because my tongue will never stop moving, feeling you, kissing you,” Stiles used his hands to bend Derek’s knees up, running his hands back down his shins. “By the time I’m done with you the only word you’ll be able to remember is my name, the feel of it against you lips, the air inside your lungs, all of it will be for _my name_.” Stiles grinned as Derek’s cock twitched and his breath came out in a sharp gasp, his toes curling.

Then Stiles bent down and swallowed Derek, and was instantly rewarded with a moan. He was thick and heavy in Stiles’ mouth, a pleasant heat. Stiles sucked softly, trailing his tongue lightly over Derek’s shaft, testing him.

His body gave a jerk and he grunted, neck arching. Stiles moaned against Derek’s cock, breathing through his nose then exhaling harshly, the air flowing coolly down Derek’s exposed shaft.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered, low and harsh.

Stiles sucked harder, reaching down to gently take up Derek’s balls, rolling them between his fingers, loving the feel of Derek’s body twitching with every suck and pull.

Stiles trailed his tongue along the slit, dipping it slightly in, and Stiles felt rough hands in his hair, curling desperately inward as Derek moaned.

“Fuck, Stiles,” he groaned, thighs tightening around Stiles. “You’re fucking driving me…” Derek stopped, growled, and leaned forward to bite at the back of Stiles’ ear. Stiles shivered and paused bobbing his head for a moment, letting out a small gasp.

Then he was right back on him, Derek’s body squirming and rocking underneath him, the sound of his low moans filling the air. Stiles sucked harder, pulling more of Derek into his mouth, curling his hands over Derek’s thighs.

“Jesus, where did you learn to _do_ this?” Derek asked, eyes wide, gasping mouth open and panting.

Stiles eyes grinned for him as he gave another innocent suck, and Derek convulsed around him, breath hitching.

“Stiles, I’m so close,” he groaned, clutching at Stiles’ shoulders desperately. “Please, Stiles, I-“

He came with a muffled, strangled groan, a fist to his mouth, his body shivering and seizing up around Stiles. He swallowed the come, salty and hot on his tongue, but there was so much at once he felt a little travel down his lips.

Derek looked up just as he was licking the come from his lower lip, and his eyes darkened.

He leaned forward and crushed their mouths together, and the act was so filthy, so sexual and crazed that Stiles moaned into it, clutching at Derek’s huge shoulders.

Derek finally pulled away, gasping slightly, pupils still blown, so all Stiles’ could see of his dark pond water irises were thin slivers.

“How are you so _good_ at that?” Derek asked again, gently combing his hand through Stiles hair.

“I honestly have no idea,” Stiles responded, panting softly, unsure of what was going to happen next.

Derek smiled, bending down to kiss his forehead. “Do you have a pen?” he asked, and Stiles frowned, but reached down and rifled through his clothes nonetheless.

He came up empty handed. “No, sorry,” he said, and he watched Derek lean over to dig through the drawer to their left. He came back out with a pen that looked like it had seen better days, then smiled and leaned forward to write something down on Stiles’ forearm.

Stiles realized it was his phone number just as Derek put the cap on.

“What if I don’t call you?” Stiles asked, watching Derek with wide eyes as he bent over and got dressed, sliding his clothes over his body.

Derek turned back to look at him as he walked out the door, a gleam in his eyes that made Stiles’ fingers curl. “You will.”

Then he left.

Stiles stared down at the number on his arm for a long time before moving to dress himself as well. By the time he made it back down to the party, Derek was nowhere to be seen. Stiles did _not_ mope around until Scott showed up. He did _not_.

Scott, while completely sexed up and blushing, was still decently sober, so he drove himself and Stiles over to his apartment, where they both crashed, unwilling to discuss their sexual adventures.

The next morning, Stiles padded into the kitchen to find Scott smiling at his phone, one hand moving to text, the other holding a mug of coffee.

Scott glanced up at Stiles and blushed, then set down his coffee. He was grinning all over his face. “So, how did last night go?”

Stiles flipped Scott off, and he laughed. “You know very well how it went. I should ask you the same thing about _Isaac_.”

Scott blushed and shrugged, a small, helpless smile coming to his face. “Yeah, okay, well. It turns out I don’t like Allison as much as I thought,” he muttered, and Stiles just rolled his eyes.

Scott was still watching him though. “Did you get his number?”

Stiles nodded, glancing down at his arm. The ink was smeared a little, though, he could still make the numbers out.

“Then text him,” Scott said, taking a drink of his coffee.

Stiles glanced down at his phone, the sighed, entering Derek’s number in. “I feel like we have nothing in common, you know? I mean, he doesn’t like _my favorite fruit_. How am I supposed to deal?”

Scott threw a piece of bread at him. “Compromise, dumbass. You literally had sex with him _because_ he didn’t like strawberries. Don’t you like blueberries?”

Stiles considered that, pursing his lips as he looked at his phone.

_So, how about blueberries? Those any better than strawberries?_

The answer was almost immediate.

_I fucking hate blueberries_

Despite himself, Stiles smiled. And he thought, possibly, Derek was smiling, too.

**Author's Note:**

> OK HELLO GUYS HI
> 
> People have been asking for my tumblr account and I know I've like, posted it and such but I'm so dumb when it comes to technology it's truly amazing I can even upload on here but I can't figure out how to post a link directly to my tumblr account (if anyone knows how HMU plz ily ily) BUT!!!
> 
> If any of you adorable people want to prompt me PLEASE DO!! I HEART IT ALL!!! --> \--> @ http://mes-ail.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL I HEART YOU I HEART YOU :))))))))))))!


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